Guardian Angel
by Frances Desmarais
Summary: After long torturous waits and paper works, their marriage was finally approved. But before the wedding day, a terrible accident snatched away Arthur's life and since then, Alfred's life changed.
1. Chapter 1

_Mr Arthur Jones_

_Mr Arthur Kirkland Jones_

_Mr Jones_

_Mr F. Jones_

_Mrs Jones_

Arthur crossed out the last one in the paper and chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head. It was a bright sunny morning and he was up early, sitting on the couch with a notepad and a pen in his hand enjoying the morning air. Finally, his dream to marry the love of his life finally came true just a few months ago. It was a long and painful process, the paper works drove Arthur crazy. But in the end they were finally approved and now they will have their wedding in another two weeks.

It was all so crazy.

One moment they were just a pair of teenagers crazily in love with each other and now they were getting married, to be husband and wife. (Or in their case, husband and husband.) They always dream about this, and now it's coming true. Arthur smiled softly to himself as he glanced around his house,_ their_ house, the house that they bought together. Saving up bit by bit and finally they bought it, a small house painted in sky blue with a red roof in the suburbs with a nice backyard and an oak tree. There're three rooms upstairs with a nice little bathroom, a spacey living room and a kitchen.

They were happy.

The extra room upstairs they turned it into a guest room slash study room which consists of a small bed, a bookcase with Arthur's novels and Alfred's comic books. A shelf with framed photographs of Alfred and Arthur's baby photos, a signed football, a Captain America figurine and a teddy bear with a bow around its neck (A gift from Alfred to Arthur on their first date, Arthur treats it like his mos treasure item ever since.)

The bathroom's yellow. A bright sunflower yellow, it was like this when they bought the house and they both had no intention of changing the colour. There's a small old fashioned bath tub in the corner, which allowed them to take bubble baths together. Arthur decorated the sink with fancy little shaped soaps that smell like a flower garden, that Alfred would laugh at him about. ("What? A bathroom's not a bathroom without fancy soaps.")

The kitchen downstairs was kept clean and tidy, since both of them were not professional cooks, but they did keep a cookbook or two on top of the fridge for emergencies like family dinners and such. There were plenty of microwavable food in the cabinet, often it was ALfred who would make microwavable food since he's too lazy to actually put the effort to make real food, or sometimes he would just order some Chinese takeout or pizza, which Arthur would scold him since he said it's unhealthy.

_It was so so crazy._

Arthur put down his pen and took a sip of his tea. It had turned cold. He propped his legs on top of the coffee table and wiggled his toes inside his fuzzy socks. They were a gift from Alfred, he knitted them for the Brit last Christmas. Even if the colour was horrible (they were in the ugliest shade of orange) and were too long ("I didn't know the size of your feet so I made it longer, just in case, you can even use them as gloves if you want, they're big enough.") and horrible knitted (Arthur found the 'Knitting for Dummy' book underneath Alfred's bed when he want visiting last time, looks like it was his first time knitting something.), but Arthur still loves it.

A pair of hands appeared out of no where and covered his eyes. Darkness swept over him and he smiled, putting down the pen and notepad onto his lap and gave the hand a squeeze, feeling the familiar blue wristband of his lover. Arthur also has one of it, a red one, but he doesn't wear it as often as Alfred.

"Good morning love." Arthur greeted, prying the hands away from his emerald eyes and turned around, giving his lover a smile.

"Mornin'." Alfred replied, his voice husky from sleep. The blonde American yawned and scratched the back of his head.

"Breakfast's ready. I made waffles. I didn't burn them this time though, I think I deserve a praise for that." Arthur said, nodding his head to the direction of the kitchen, grinning.

Alfred chuckled.

"Thank God you didn't make your famous Kirkland scones."

"Why?"

"Because they taste awful. Horrible, in fact. Too dry, tasteless and sometimes burnt... Hard, even."

Arthur crossed his arms around his chest and frowned at him. "At least I try to make them, unlike that certain someone who only eats and complains... And also the recipe was passed down from my great great great grandmother."

"Hey, I make food sometimes too." Alfred said, defensing himself.

"Like what?"

"Uh..." Alfred looked away, fiddling with the hem of his checkered pajama bottom. "I helped making the cake last time." he said.

That cake.

That chocolate cake that they made together as a get well gift for Alfred's brother. They almost blew up the whole kitchen, but eventually they managed, even if it tasted like burnt rocks.

"You_ helped_, Alfred. You didn't make it yourself. When was the last time you made something all by yourself without the help of others?"

"I microwave stuff."

"That doesn't count." Arthur smirked.

"Well... I guess, never then..."

Arthur gave him a proud smirk and nodded towards the kitchen again. "Go on, go eat your breakfast."

"Fine fine... hey, what were you writing before I came down?" the American asked.

A blush crept onto Arthur's cheeks as he hid the notepad behind his back. "Nothing, absolutely nothing... I was just uh... writing a poem."

"A poem, huh? Can I read it?"

Arthur's blush darkened as he shook his head furiously. "No, you can't. Sorry but it's kind of private."

"Is it some cheesy poem? Something like, _roses are red, violets are blue, Alfred F Jones you're so freaking handsome and brave and heroic, I love you?_"

Arthur looked at his lover, horrified. "Dear Lord, are you crazy? Why would I write something like that? And also, whatever possessed you to make you think that I would write something that... that..."

"Romantic." Alfred grinned.

"It's not romantic at all you git. It's gross, and also a bit creepy." Arthur looked away, gripping the notepad in his hands tightly.

He would never, not in a million years let Alfred see what he wrote. It would be so embarrassing. Alfred would surely laugh at him, maybe he would even think that Arthur's a weirdo.

"Come one, let me see." Alfred said, holding out his hand to Arthur, asking for the notepad.

Arthur shook his head, and inched away from him.

"No."

"Aww Artie..."

"Don't call me that. It's Arthur, how many times have I told you that my name's Arthur, not Artie. Give some respect, I'm older that you by the way."

"Old fart."

"Am not!" Arthur fumed, glaring at Alfred.

"You're so cute when you're embarrassed, and angry." Alfred smiled, pulling the Brit closer so he could plant a kiss on his blonde hair.

"I'm not embarrassed."

"You're blushing, see?" Alfred poked the Brit's cheek and immediately his hand was slapped away. "Just leave me alone, go have your breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day, they say." Arthur said, standing up, clutching the notepad in his chest.

Alfred chuckled and nodded. "Fine, I'll go have my breakfast. But in return you have to let me read what you wrote."

"You little git."

"Fair, no?"

"Just go."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mon Dieu Arthur you look so beautiful!"

"Do not call me beautiful. I am a perfectly normal man and I am absolutely not beautiful!"

"You are beautiful mon cher. And you know what will make you even beautiful? A dress! Let's get you in a dress and everything will be perfect!"

"For the last time Francis, I am not wearing a dress. Gosh, what's wrong with you? And moreover why am I the one that should wear a dress, why can't Alfred wear a dress?"

"Because you look more like a lady, and I bet you bottom when you and Alfred are doing _it_." Francis winked and laughed his famous laugh.

Arthur gave him the finger and checked his reflection in the mirror. He was in the fitting room, trying out the tuxedo that he was going to wear on his wedding day. Alfred couldn't come since he had work that he needed to finish, so their annoying French friend Francis was the one who accompanied Arthur there. Arthur didn't really like him, and he always calls him names, but Francis didn't mind.

"Just look, my baby Arthur, finally getting married. I am so proud of you." Francis clapped his hands in front of his chest and sighed. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Who did you invite to the wedding mon cher?"

Arthur thought for a while, counting on his fingers. "Alfred's colleagues, Alfred's family, my family, some friends, that's it I guess."

"Hmm... good. And did you hire a band or something?"

"A band? No, didn't think of that. Why? You have any recommendations?"

Francis gave a playful smirk and wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulders. "You know Gilbert and Antonio, non?"

"Yes, that annoying albino and overly cheerful Spaniard... why?"

"Well we kind of formed a band, the bad friends trio... and uh... it would be lovely if..."

"Oh no. You and those barbarians that you call friends are _not _performing on my wedding." Arthur got away from Francis's grip and pointed his chest. "You guys are always messing things up. Remember last time on Roderich and Elizaveta's wedding day? Your albino friend..."

"Gilbert." Francis interrupted.

"Right. Gilbert, he got so drunk that he almost raped the bride."

Francis chuckled. "Typical Gilbert. He couldn't help it you know. He's in love with her. And it's a torture for him to watch her getting married to another man other than him. It would break your heart if Alfred was to marry another guy, non?"

Arthur chewed on his bottom lip and nodded. "But why didn't he confess to her? You know, maybe she'd feel the same and then they'd be together instead of him sitting there watching her waltzing with another guy."

"Gilbert's a bit of a coward, mon ami. I know that Elizaveta feels the same way towards him, but also, she's too afraid to tell him. They are both cowards."

"It's... it's just... they would so perfect for each other. It's such a waste. If they could be together then it would be so... everything would be perfect."

"Just like you and Alfred." Francis smiled and placed a hand on the Brit's shoulder. Arthur smiled back and placed his hand on top of Francis's.

"Just like me and Alfred."

…

"So how was it?" Alfred asked as his fiance walked into the house with a gigantic smile on his face. Alfred was sitting on the couch, controller in hand and the game paused on the TV. Arthur walked over to him and sat down, snuggling close to him and kissed his cheek. "It went well, Francis was a butt, but yeah, it went well."

"You should consider wearing a dress you know, so the guests would not..."

"Good Lord Alfred, for the millionth time I am not wearing a dress. Why are you just like that frog? Geez..."

"You'd look good in one, a white one with laces and ribbons. Maybe one with a corset?"

"Then you wear one, I'm sure you'll also look great in one. I'd love to see your chubby tummy in a dress."

"Oh no. Heroes don't wear dresses." Alfred grinned. "And I am not fat."

"You wanker."

"But you love me. And you're going to be married to me, this heroic, handsome wanker, Alfred Jones and make yourself Mr Arthur Kirkland Jones."

Arthur smiled and poked Alfred's tummy. "Yeah, husband to the Alfred F. Jones with a chubby tummy. And by the way, what does that F in your name stands for? Fred? Frank?"

Alfred laughed. "Oh no, neither."

"What then?"

"Fitzgerald."

"Ah."

Arthur nodded and grabbed Alfred's hand in his. "I thought it'll be something like Fred or Frank... or even Fatty." He snickered, poking Alfred's tummy again.

"Not funny." The American puffed up his cheeks and bit the Brit gently on the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Calling me fat."

"I wasn't... oh never mind. What do you want for dinner?" The Brit unwrapped himself from Alfred's arms and stood up, walking over to the kitchen. "Or do you want to eat outside? Pizza maybe?" The Brit picked up the cordless phone and looked at the number for pizza delivery on a piece of paper along with a Chinese take out place's on a piece of paper that's stuck on the fridge with a British flag magnet.

"No sweet, I'll cook tonight."

Arthur's eyes widen and he laughed. "You? Cook?" And he laughed some more. He stopped when he noticed that Alfred was serious. "Oh, really? You'd cook? Wow... what a surprise, normally you would just sit in front of your television and order me around making you food. Who are you and what have you done to my fiance?"

Alfred chuckled. "No, I'm me alright. I just thought that I never made you a meal before so I thought that maybe I should make you one tonight. But don't get mad if it tasted horrible though, I'm no Jamie Oliver or something."

"Alright." The Brit smiled and walked over to the stairs. "I'll go shower and just yell for me when you're done. Oh, and don't burn down the kitchen"

"Shower? Aww... I thought we could shower together after dinner." Alfred pouted, making a sad puppy dog face. "I could shower again." Arthur gave him a wink and disappeared upstairs.

The American walked into the kitchen and grabbed Arthur's '#1 cook' apron and put it on. Grabbing a cook book from Arthur's shelf, he flipped to the easiest one and started reading the ingredients.

…

After they both had their shower (together of course), they sat on the bed with Arthur reading a Harry Potter book (The Deathly Hallows, for the 4th time) and Alfred reading a comic book. The room was quiet, except the sound of the constant flipping of pages and the rustling of leaves on the apple tree on the backyard.

Alfred looked over and saw Arthur wiping the corner of his eye and nudged him. "Hey."

"What?"

"Are you crying?"

"W-What... no. I wasn't crying. There's just something in my eye, that's all." Arthur closed the book and lay his head down on the American's shoulder. "What are you reading?"

"A comic book." Alfred replied, eyes not leaving the book.

"What's it about?"

"Captain America."

"I see."

Arthur read Alfred's comic on his shoulder for a while and yawned.

"Tired?" the American asked.

"Yes."

"Go to sleep then, I'll sleep later." The Brit nodded and snuggled close to his fiance, wrapping his arm around his belly.

"Two more weeks to go." Arthur said, giggling like a school girl. Alfred smiled and patted his lover's hair. "I can't wait. It's too far away. Make time go faster." Arthur pouted and looked up to his lover with his emerald green eyes.

"I will if I could." Alfred said, setting his book down on the bedside table and removed his glasses.

"Tired?" Arthur asked, scooting over a little to let him lie down. "No, I just don't want you to go to sleep alone." the American smiled.

"I'm not sleeping alone, you're here with me, no?"

"Yeah, but I want to fall asleep with you, and you fall asleep with me, so we can meet in our dreams."

Arthur chuckled and kissed Alfred's nose. "You're so cute sometimes."

"I know. You're really cute too."


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred watched the cake in the oven as it bakes. He grinned when he heard the ding of the oven and took the cake out with a pair of gloves. He placed the cake on the table to cool and decided to wait for Arthur to get home so they could decorate the cake together. Their wedding is tomorrow and Alfred was very excited, and also nervous. He was smiling and cheerful for the whole day, and it's pissing Arthur off a bit. Arthur has went out to get more milk and some more ice-cream, leaving Alfred at home alone. So Alfred decided to surprise his British lover with a cake. He dug out the old cook books Arthur owns and decided to bake the easiest one that he could find in the book.

The kitchen counter was a mess. There was flour and egg white everywhere, and there was a huge stain on Alfred's shirt (He had forgotten to wear an apron, no matter how many times Arthur told him to when he wants to cook something in the kitchen because stains are really hard to get rid of) But aside from the mess, Alfred thought he did a pretty good job. He sat down on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table and picked up one of Arthur's book that's placed over there. He flipped to the page that Arthur had bookmarked and started to read. But then he gave up after a while since he thinks that books with no pictures and only lines and lines of words are boring. He got up and walked around the house with nothing to do. He glanced at the clock, it read 2 o' clock in the afternoon.

_What's taking Arthur so long? _

_Maybe he met Francis on his way and the two started to fight again._

_Or maybe he wandered into some old bookshop again._

Alfred knows that when Arthur steps into a bookshop, he'll just stay there, lost in whatever book he got his eyes on and not leave until Alfred drags him away.

After pacing around for a while, he decided to play some video games.

_Maybe if I play some video games, time will pass faster and then Arthur will come home. I can't wait to decorate that cake with him, and then eat it. Maybe then some kitchen sex..._

Alfred chuckled at that thought and switched on his game console.

...

Earlier in the morning, the Brit was awakened by the sound of Alfred's giggles. He stretched and turned to face the American.

"What are you giggling about? You look like a school girl." Arthur frowned, poking Alfred's cheek as the American giggled non-stop beside him on the bed. The two were wrapped up in each others' arms on the bed, enjoying the lovely morning light on their bodies. It was a Sunday so neither of them needed to get to work.

"I'm just so happy." Alfred sighed contentedly, grabbing Arthur's finger in his hand and planted a small kiss on it. "It's just, I can't believe that you'll be married to me, tomorrow." He giggled more after he said that. Arthur gave him a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, it's a bit exciting."

"Not a_ bit,_ _very_. It's _very_ exciting. You're going to be my_ wife_." Alfred grinned. Arthur pouted and smacked Alfred's arm playfully. "I'm not your wife. I'm a man too. I should be your husband, not a wife."

"But I'd like you to be my wife more." Alfred said. "And also you're getting my last name."

Arthur blushed. "Yeah... whatever."

"I love you so much, Artie. So so much." Alfred said, pulling Arthur's face close to his and planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I love you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. I love you from your skull to your toe bones..."

"Phalanges..." Arthur corrected, snuggling closer to his American lover. "Not toe bones..."

"I thought phalanges are the finger bones..."

"They're the same." Arthur explained. "See, you have your phalanges of your hands and the phalanges of your foot..."

"Whoa there, I don't need a Biology lesson from you now, Arthur. You know I suck at these things..."

"The only things you know are food and Marvel comics." Arthur stated, eying the stack of comics by the dresser.

"I can't help it." Alfred shrugged. "But there's one thing that I know the best, and that's Arthur Kirkland." he said proudly.

"What do you mean by that?" Arthur chuckled.

Alfred pretended to think for a while and replied, "I know that you don't like sugar in your tea and you like listening to classical music, especially Beethoven and you write amazing poems and you can play the bagpipes."

"How do you know that I can play the bagpipes? I never told anyone that." Arthur asked, eye wide. No one knows that he can play the bagpipes except for his brothers.

"C'mon, you were bragging about it one day when you were drunk, saying that you're so much better than your stupid brother and stuff." Alfred answered. "You were really cute that night. I had to carry you home, remember?"

"No..." Arthur groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "This is horrible."

"Aww, I think it's cute that you can play the bagpipes. I can't even play any instrument except the stupid triangle." Alfred chuckled and shook his head.

"You're just saying that..." the Brit groaned and turned away from his fiance. "I bet you think I'm a total loser now."

"I don't think you're a loser." Alfred smiled. Arthur looked at Alfred's stupid grin and reached up to pinch his cheeks. "You're getting a bit chubby" he commented, eyebrows knitting together. Alfred pouted and moved away from his lover's fingers and sighed. "Well I can't help it, you like to spoil me with all kinds of food."  
"But as far as I know, you hate my cooking."

Alfred grinned. "Maybe living with you and eating your food for so long had spoiled my taste buds, now I find your cooking delicious." Arthur shook his head. "You're ridiculous."

"Or maybe your cooking had improved, who knows?"

"Maybe. We should get up now." Arthur said, gently pushing Alfred's arms away from his body. Alfred gave a small whine and pulled him closer. "No, I want to stay here with you for a bit longer."

Arthur smiled. "No, get up now lazy bone. I'll go make breakfast. What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"... Waffles."

"Sure."

…

It's 10 o' clock and still no sign or Arthur. Alfred's getting worried. He looked at the clock and then back to his watch and back to the clock on his cellphone and sighed.

_Right._

_Cellphone._

Alfred quickly dialed Arthur's number but there's no answer. He panicked and called again. Still, no answer.

_Did something happen to Arthur, his precious Brit?_

He picked up his phone again and called Francis. Francis picked up on the third ring.

"What is it? I'm kind of busy right now." Francis answered in an annoyed tone. Alfred could hear the sound of rustling bedsheets through the phone and a voice of a girl.

"Are you in bed with someone right now?" Alfred asked, sitting down on the couch. "No, Alfred, I'm swimming with the sharks in the Pacific Ocean, what do you think?" Francis snapped. Alfred rolled his eyes. "Look, whatever you're doing now, stop it and come to my place."

"What? You want to join us? Because if you want to you can..." Alfred shivered at the sound of Francis' extraordinary laugh. "No, I don't want to join you people in... whatever you're doing right now. I need you to come because Arthur's missing."

There was a silence on the other side of the phone. Alfred shifted the phone to his left ear. "Francis? You still there?"

"Oui. But... what do you mean _missing_?"

"I don't know. He's not home yet, he went out this morning and hasn't come back ever since."

"Maybe he's in a bookshop somewhere, that has happened before..." Francis replied.

"I know... but he's not answering his phone."

There was another rustle on the other side of the phone and Alfred could hear footsteps and a door closing. "Your girl just left." Alfred said absent mindedly.

"I know, but your fiance is more important right now. Maybe he left his phone on silent mode?"

Alfred shook his head and massaged his temples. "He's an idiot with technology, he don't even know how to send a_ text_, so I don't think he knows how to switch his phone to silent mode." Alfred sighed. "I'm just really worried, Francis."

"Don't worry. He's a grown man, he'll be fine." Francis answered.

"I hope so."

…

Alfred woke up with a horrible pain in his back. He groaned and sat up slowly, rubbing his back in small circular motion. He had fallen asleep on the couch with the phone still in his hand. Sunlight was pouring in from the windows and Alfred squinted. He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it's 9 o'clock. Their wedding is in 2 hours. He looked around to room, expecting Arthur to show up from the kitchen with his ugly apron and a smile on his face, but no. There were no signs of Arthur. Alfred could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

_Where is Arthur? What happened to him?_

Just then, the phone rang. Alfred jumped at the sound of the phone and accidentally dropped it to the floor. He mumbled a curse and grabbed the phone hurriedly, hoping that it's Arthur calling to tell him that he's fine and is waiting for him at the church in his nice tuxedo and a bouquet of flowers.

Alfred pressed the answer button and pressed the receiver against his ear. "Hello? Artie?"

There was a silence on the other side of the phone that made Alfred's heart beat even faster. "Artie? Is that you?" he said, gripping the receiver tight until his knuckles turned white.

Then, there was a sob on the other side of the phone and Alfred bit his bottom lip. "Who is this?" he asked.

"I-It's me, Alfred. Francis. You need to come to the h-hospital right now. Something has happened to Arthur."


End file.
